Near Life Experience
by adoringambrose
Summary: You honor the dead by going on, even when you're scared. You live because they don't get to. The Walking Dead AU. Negan finds comfort in the most unexpected person after losing his wife, only to later find out they suffered from the same thing. (No Zombie Apocalypse)
1. By Your Side

In eight years of medical school, the one thing they forget to teach you is to how to tell a patient that they're dying.

Of course as an intern, I'm just observing for the most part; learning the routine of rounds, check ups, and tending to whatever Attending's service I get put on for the day. I don't get to tell the patient that they're dying, I don't get to diagnose them without a surgeon present, but what I do get to do is meet my very first patient today. However, I wished it was on better terms.

I stepped into the small hospital room, clipboard in hand and Attending by my side.

"Hi, Lucille, how are you feeling?" Dr. Nasser asked with a smile.

"Oh, sweetie, I'm fine." She assured him, but then frowned once her husband spoke up.

"She's not fine. She just doesn't like to burden you people. I can assure you that she's not fucking fine." Her husband practically snarled, causing me to forget what I was supposed to be doing.

"Her chart, Doctor Greene." Dr. Nasser reminded me after the brief moment of silence.

"Oh, yeah," I mumbled. "This is Lucille. She's forty years old."

"And?"

"And she has stage four melanoma." I looked up, noticing the man I presumed to be her husband glaring at me as I spoke.

Since we're taught to be professional, I couldn't react to the words on the clipboard, but if I had been able to, my heart would've broken for these two. The man's glare said it all; she was the love of his life and he was losing her.

"Lucille has been in and out of Virginia Regional Hospital for months now." Dr. Nasser informed me. "Today we're gonna go in and see if it's spreading anywhere else."

His words were so simple it almost felt robotic. Here was a woman with a disease that was taking away the tone of her skin, her strength, her life, and Doctor Nasser seemed dismissive. I knew we weren't supposed to get emotionally attached to patients, especially in our field, but I guess once you've seen enough death, you get used to the routine. There's still hope for cases like these, but not as much as there used to be. That was one thing I needed to remember.

"Doctor Greene, can you show Negan to the waiting area while I take Lucille up to O.R. One?"

I nodded at Dr. Nasser, then turned my attention to the man in the chair. "I'm assuming you're Negan?"

"You'd be assuming fucking correctly." He muttered as he stood, placing a kiss to Lucille's forehead while she was being carted down the hall.

We didn't say much on the walk to the waiting area. What was there to say? Hey, sorry your wife is dying, I know it must be hard on you. There was nothing I could do to comfort this perfect stranger, and as a surgeon who was supposed to be able to help, I felt utterly useless.

When we finally reached the waiting area, I offered him a faint smile and turned on my heels to leave, but was stopped by his voice before I had even gotten to take a step in the opposite direction.

"Do you." He cleared his throat. "Do you think there's anything else we can fucking do here?"

I turned back to look at him, my expression faltering some.

"Sir," I began.

"It's Negan."

"Negan, we're going to try our best to save your wife." I assured him, but my face didn't match my tone.

"I just... I should've known, right? I mean she was complaining about aching and being tired. She lost a lot of weight and..." He breathed. "If I would've brought her in sooner, she would be fine."

It wasn't fair for him to blame himself. This wasn't his fault, it wasn't anyone's fault. These things happen and there's no rhyme or reason for it. I could see that this had been consuming him since the moment he found out, and I wanted to ease his mind even if it was just for a moment.

"What do you do for a living, Negan?" The look on his face was enough to let me know he wasn't expecting that question.

"I'm, uh. I'm a teacher." His brow furrowed. "But when Lucille got sick, I picked up a second job selling used cars to cover the hospital bills."

I nodded, sitting down in the chair across from him now.

"What do you teach?"

"I'm just a gym coach." He shrugged and after a while spoke up again. "Do you think if I had more money I could pay for her medicine and treatments and shit? Would that even make a fucking difference at this point?"

I forced a small smile at his painful question. The distraction was nice while it lasted, but then I found myself shaking my head at his question.

"With cancer this aggressive..." I sighed. "We try our hardest when it comes to chemotherapy and radiation."

"But?" His eyes narrowed at me.

"But in the end.. we look back on things. How bad we wanted them to pull through."

I stopped for a moment. This wasn't my place to be telling him these things. This wasn't my professional opinion anymore. It was my personal experience.

"And we see how these treatments destroyed the person we love. How they contorted them into an unrecognizable shell of who they once were. We see how weak they were in their last moments. How sunken in their face was, how sallow their skin looked. And we still think it was worth it. We think that these treatments gave us more time with the person we loved, but really, it didn't. If we stopped treatments or never started them to begin with, yes, it would've shortened their life, but it would've been their life. Not the cancer's. Not the treatment and the chemo. As humans, we're wired to have compassion. We love, and we love hard, but we're never really taught how to let go. And I think that does more damage than an illness ever will."

I could see him carefully thinking over my words. In no way was I trying to sway him to stop Lucille's treatments and I know he could see that. Here was a man asking a stranger for advice and in need of someone to cling to even though I could tell he wasn't a vulnerable person unless it came to her.

Before Negan had a chance to say anything in response to me, my pager went off. It was a 911 from Doctor Nasser and my heart sank in my chest. However, I suppose my poker face had gotten better already, because Negan didn't sense anything.

"Looks like you're needed somewhere else where a sorry piece of shit isn't." He chuckled light-heartedly.

"I'm needed in O.R. one. I'll be back soon, okay?" I offered a soft smile as I stood up.

Negan nodded and waved me off as I headed out of the waiting area. I found it hard to breathe and I couldn't feel my body. It felt like I was walking on air because this couldn't be real.

My first patient was dying.


	2. Don't Wake Me When Its Over

When I arrived up to O.R. one, nobody was there. Not Doctor Nasser, no nurses or anesthesiologists. The room was empty, not even the sound of a machine beeped.

It felt like I had been punched in the gut and the wind had been knocked out of me. Was this it? Was that all my patient had left? My thoughts and worries were interrupted by the sound of my Attending's voice.

"Doctor Greene." Dr. Nasser began, causing me to turn and face him in the scrub area. "You were only supposed to show him to the waiting area. You missed out on a good teaching experience by consoling this sick woman's husband." His voice almost sounded disgusted that I cared for someone other than myself.

"I'm.. sorry?" I raised my brow at him. "You're telling me this woman's life is nothing besides a good teaching experience? You're a surgeon! You're supposed to be optimistic until the end."

I knew surgeons were assholes, but he was crossing a line into dangerous territory.

"The woman is dying, Doctor Greene. He knows that, she knows that. We all know that! You can't have feelings and be a great surgeon. We don't have that luxury." His voice fell silent for a few moments.

He was right. Emotions weren't allowed past the doors of this hospital unless they were coming from patients. We got weak if we cared too much, and weakness made room for error, but this was my first patient. I'd been waiting my whole life to have my first patient and I wanted to do everything in my power to make her and her husband feel comfortable and have nothing but faith in my abilities.

"We have to go tell this woman that she has less time than we originally thought. How's that for optimism, Doctor Greene?" Dr. Nasser muttered as he descended out of the room and down the hallway.

I had to wait in the scrub room by myself for a few minutes before joining him. I needed time to compose myself. Lucille and Negan deserved better than a blubbering intern delivering her results. I promised Negan everything would be okay, but like Dr. Nasser had said, even he knew she was dying.

After I had wiped the tears from my cheeks and took a few breaths, I was as good as new. On the outside at least, but that was all that mattered.

I grabbed the clipboard from the cubby outside of Lucille's room and knocked twice before entering the room with Dr. Nasser to see Negan sitting by her bedside with her hand in a death grip like he had no intentions on letting her go. I could see it in their eyes that they already had so many questions. Questions I didn't have the power to answer.

"Lucille," Dr. Nasser nodded his head at her and gave her a smile, as if he were giving her his finest condolences.

"So what the fuck happened, doc?" Negan glared at him. "Weren't you supposed to go in and remove some shit? She hasn't even been pricked with a fucking needle."

Negan's anger mixed with my emotions were not working well together. I tried to think of something else, anything to keep myself from crying, but just as I thought of something, Dr. Nasser called upon me to deliver the dirty work.

"Doctor Greene, if you will." His patience was wearing thin with Negan's temper.

I gave a small nod and looked down at the chart, reading over the analysis of her scans before I peered up at them once again.

"Doctor Nasser was going to take Lucille up for surgery if her scans hadn't changed and we knew what exactly we were dealing with." I swallowed the lump in my throat. "However... Lucille's scans concluded something we hoped wouldn't have been an issue."

I saw Negan relinquish Lucille's hand from the tight grip he once had on it. He looked like the wind had been knocked out of him and I hadn't even gotten to the news yet.

"Lucille, we found metastasis growths in more than one new area compared to your last scans two weeks ago." I paused, letting out a shaky breath. "The cancer has spread to your brain and other vital organs."

Lucille nodded her head weakly as if she knew better than we did. She knew how she felt. She knew better than the scans. She knew it was spreading quicker than the treatments were killing it. She knew she was dying.

My eyes met Negan's a few moments after that. I swear if it was physically possible, I watched the light and hope drain from his eyes. He trusted me and I had failed him.

"What's all this fucking mean?" He grunted, clearing his throat to force back the tears.

"Negan," I began.

"Her time is limited." Dr. Nasser blurted out. "My professional opinion, she has about two good weeks left. I'm very sorry."

But he wasn't sorry.

"We'll leave you two alone for a while to discuss things." I mumbled softly, giving them both time to let the news sink in.

When we stepped out of the room and closed the door, I dragged Dr. Nasser down the hall and gave him a piece of my mind. Attending-Intern had nothing to do with the respect in this conversation, or the lack there-of.

"Are you kidding me?" I raised my voice. "Two weeks! Two weeks you let Lucille go without scans when you knew how progressive her cancer has been since the start. Even if you didn't, you could catch up to speed with the information on your precious clipboard." I glared.

"Look, kid, you don't know shit about shit, alright? I've been taking care of this woman for months before Chief Wallace tossed you onto her case and made her your patient. I've been doing my best."

"Your best!" I scoffed. "If your best is giving up hope the second you saw how advanced her case was, if your best is dismissing the feelings of her grieving husband, if your best is not doing daily scans to check for new mets, if your best is not showing any form of compassion for this woman and the life she's fighting for, then yeah, you're doing your damned best!"

"That's enough!" He shouted over me, causing me to stumble back into something. Or rather someone.

"Doctor Greene." He mumbled, holding me upright as he caught me.

"Negan..." I gulped.

"I think we should talk. Privately." His eyes stared directly at Dr. Nasser as he helped me to my feet and walked with me to the cafeteria.

We sat at a small table in the corner of the room, talking over a cup of coffee and pumpkin muffins.

"Lucille wants to stop treatments." He mumbled. "She's done. She's done fighting. I think she's been done for a while." His eyes drooped with exhaustion and sadness.

"Negan, I'm very sorry," I began.

"It's not your fault. I should've brought her in sooner, that asshole doctor should've taken better care of her... you're the only one here who's done anything right in all these months and you just showed up." He laughed at the irony.

"So what now?" I asked, batting my eyes at him curiously.

"I work with the time she has left. I remind her that I fucking love her and that it's okay that this disease was bigger than she was. I remind her that she kicked its ass for the longest fucking time and that's something to be proud of in itself. I read the love letters she wrote to me when we met in college and I bring her the best food this fucking cafeteria has to offer. Just 'cause she's given up, doesn't mean I have to." He shrugged, picking at the sleeve on his coffee cup.

I nodded my head at his carefully thought out response and we sat there for the remainder of the visit in a calming silence.

 _ **This story is also on Wattpad under the same title, but the username is darylsnegan. Please leave reviews and let me know what you think.**_


	3. Here Today

Lucille died on a Wednesday.

The weeks preceding her death were an uphill battle for everyone, especially Negan. Lucille had come to terms with her death and even embraced it while he was still trying to look for a last minute Hail Mary even though she was declining rapidly.

I wished there was something I could've done for him. I wished he didn't have to watch the love of his life wither away. I wished she didn't have to suffer the way she did.

Lucille's service was beautiful; there were flowers cluttered along the tables to send condolences, friends and family told their finest stories, and everyone basked in the memory of who Lucille was.

Even though I tried to remain hidden for the most part, I knew people saw me and wondered who I was since this was a tight-knit family and I was out of place. What was I supposed to say? _Hi, I'm the doctor who confirmed Lucille's time of death, I'm sorry for your loss._

This day wasn't about Lucille's diagnosis. This wasn't about mourning the disease that took her away from the world too soon. It was about looking back on Lucille's life and smiling at all the good she did in it. It was about Negan finally getting to put his wife to rest and stop blaming himself for her suffering. This was about her, for her.

After Lucille's service, I needed a little pick me up. I had been in the hospital every day and night, working well above my eighty hour work week by checking on her every chance I had and making sure that her and Negan both had everything they needed for so long that I felt empty now that it was over. I was still a surgeon, I would still save lives, but I was down about not being able to save her's.

My friends decided that what I needed was a drink, or several at that.

The night started out as mindless chatter that always ended up about work seeing as we were all budding interns with juicy stories trying to outdo the others. They told me how sorry they were about Lucille, but I didn't want to talk about it. Instead, I broke away from the group and went to sit at the bar top, hoping to clear my thoughts with a little silence for a while.

That lasted all of two minutes until a stocky man with a buzz cut looking to be in his mid-thirties sat down beside me and introduced himself, even though I showed every signal of not wanting to be bothered. The alcohol on his breath and the slur of his voice was prominent, causing the zero interest I had to decline even more.

"Hi, sweetheart, I'm Shane." He gave me a toothy grin.

"Hi," I mumbled, staring down at my drink.

It was obvious that I showed no interest in this Shane guy, but boy did he keep trying anyway.

"You look a little down, pumpkin. Can I buy you a drink?"

"I'm good." I shook my head, showing him the full glass in my hand.

"What about the next one?" He insisted.

"No thanks, I'm not really interested." I declined, beginning to get a little irritated now.

"Come on, lady, don't be such a prude. You should be grateful that I'm even showing interest in you."

Before I even had a chance to snap back at his misogynistic comment, a man was pulling him by his shoulder and out of his chair.

"I'm pretty sure she said she's not fucking interested, pal." Negan's familiar voice spoke up, causing me to turn my head and look up at him as he tossed the man away like a bag of trash.

He sat down beside me, uttering out a sigh as he settled himself. It was quiet for a few moments; neither of us really knew what to say to each other unless it was regarding Lucille or medicine.

I turned to look at him, noticing his messy, slicked back hair, his leather jacket that he never seemed to take off in the short time I'd known him, and the wedding ring missing from his finger. I frowned at the sight, but it wasn't my place to say anything about it.

"Thank you." I finally mumbled.

He motioned for the bartender to bring him a drink and then looked over at me as if he were figuring out what to say to such a small comment while his hand ran over his salt and pepper beard.

"You know, it meant a lot to me that you fucking showed up today." He uttered lowly. "I don't think any other doctor would've done that shit."

"I'm not any other doctor." I pointed out. "That's what gets me in trouble sometimes. I care even when we're taught not to get attached."

Negan waved a dismissive hand at me. "Do what you fucking want to. If Lucille had the same shitty doctor that she had when we first started going, I would've gone insane. You... you made her comfortable, you made me realize that what I was feeling was normal. When I fucking thought there couldn't be any, there was ease when it came to you. Do the world a favor, Doctor Greene, and continue to be a doctor who cares too much."

Negan was right. Out of all the doctors at Virginia Regional, I stuck out like a sore thumb because I didn't follow the rules of being desensitized to my patients. Of course all of the doctors cared if the patients lived and that they did everything they could, but they didn't normally tear themselves up this much if the patient didn't end up surviving.

"We can't save everybody." I smiled sadly.

I needed to remember that, but as a surgeon, that wasn't the attitude I wanted. My profession is dealing and coping with death on a daily basis, trying to do the impossible with science and medicine, going the extra mile to guarantee good news for my patients' family. I'm a surgeon, but I'm also human.

"I saw you look at my hand." He spoke up, ignoring my comment. "I'm not a bad fucking guy, alright? I'm not here trying to pick up women or any of that shit. I took it off because without Lucille, it's not a symbol of love or vows. It's just a chunk of silver. A fucking reminder that..."

I looked at him with a puzzled expression. Why, out of all people, was Negan explaining himself to his dead wife's doctor? However, I took the bait and egged him on.

"A reminder that what, Negan?" I asked, looking into his sad hazel eyes.

His eyes met mine and for a while he contemplated his words. We sat there for a few moments like that; ignoring the clinks of glasses, the music, and the voices, but then he finally answered me in a simple voice.

"That we really can't save everybody."


	4. She Waits For You

A few weeks had passed, patients came and went, but I still thought about Lucille which of course made me think of Negan. I wondered if he was okay, or if he was losing his mind in the silence of his home which once held so many memories for him.

"You're doing it again." My fellow intern Jane brought me out of my thoughts as we sat at the table in the cafeteria.

"What?" I furrowed my brow at her.

"That guy, you're still thinking about him. You've had tons of patients since his wife. You can't beat yourself up forever."

She was right, if I still felt this horrible it was hard telling how Negan was coping with it all.

Despite the grieve councilors wanting to see him twice a week, I hadn't seen Negan since the night at the bar when he saved me the trouble of throwing Shane out on his ass myself. This didn't surprise me though; Negan didn't seem like the type of guy to sit around talking about his feelings and feeling sorry for himself.

"How do you expect him to move on if you can't?" She asked, bringing me out of my thoughts once again.

I didn't have time to respond to Jane's question before both of our pagers went off.

"We gotta go to the pit, come on." I jumped from my chair, leaving behind my tray of food as I ran through the hospital to get there as quickly as possible, Jane following close behind.

When we got down there, ambulances were pulling up and we were quick to help the patients out of the back with the ease of the rolling gurneys, checking over them for breaks, internal bleeding and any other thing that could've happened to them.

"What do we got?" I asked in a panic, this was the first time our attendings had let us take charge of the situation, but these people looked to be perfectly healthy other than a few scrapes.

"Car wreck," the paramedic stated. "Van came out of nowhere and threw the guy from his motorcycle. They seem to be fine but the guy is pretty banged up."

I listened over his words carefully and nodded each time I got a new fact from the accident. The man and his wife were stable, but they had to come to the hospital for scans and tests just to be sure there were no underlying injuries that could later cause them problems.

Once we made sure the two passengers were okay to be taken inside by a couple of other interns, we ran over to help Jane with the man who was said to be thrown from his motorcycle, but the paramedics were at a loss.

"We don't have any ID on the guy and he's being pretty stubborn on giving us any information." He sighed before they carefully brought him out of the ambulance.

When they pulled him out on the gurney, I noticed that he was still wearing his helmet via the stubbornness the paramedic warned us about. I furrowed my brow at the peculiar situation and stared down at the man on the stretcher.

"Sir, I'm gonna need you to take off your helmet. It's a safety hazard and we need to check for any visible and internal damage." I spoke and oddly enough the man seemed to relax at the sound of my voice.

He nudged me as a sign to take off the helmet since his arms were pretty banged up, and when I took it off, my lips parted out of the huge surprise to see Negan underneath it.

"We've gotta stop meeting like this, Doctor Greene." He chuckled weakly.

The paramedics and Jane both looked at me with raised eyebrows.

"So our John Doe is actually...?" The paramedic waited.

"His name is Negan. Book an O.R. just in case. We're gonna get him up to CT and rule out every possible scenario." I sternly ordered the others, taking charge of the situation. I couldn't protect Lucille, but I could sure as hell protect him.

Surprisingly, everyone listened to my words and I was carting Negan inside, checking over his visible injuries with slight panic on my face.

"You know, you're pretty cute when you worry about me." His eyes lazily stared at me as he was being moved down the hall.

I was furious and worried, and he was making jokes. I had no reason to be furious or worried though, and I didn't understand why I felt this way. Ignoring his words, I glanced down at him once we were in the elevator on the way up to get his scans.

"Negan, what the hell?" I finally sighed.

He furrowed his brow at me in confusion, silently egging me on.

"You haven't shown up for your meetings with the grieve counselor, you haven't been paying off Lucille's hospital bills, and now you almost get flattened in the street?" I ran my hand over my exhausted face, letting out another soft sigh.

"Well, Doctor Greene," he grinned. "If I didn't fucking know any better, I'd say you've been keeping tabs on me."

I felt myself tense slightly. Maybe in a way, I had unconsciously been checking on his status, but it wasn't for any underlying reason other than the fact that I was doing my job... and two other fields' jobs as well.

"I didn't come to these appointments because they're a fucking joke." He spoke up again. "I'm not gonna sit down for an hour and cry about my dead wife. She's gone. I fucking know that. I also know that there's no way in hell I can pay off these hospital bills without selling my house or working myself to death. I don't know how I'm gonna pay off my own fucking hospital bills now because this CT you're talking about just sounds fucking expensive."

He went silent for a while as he tried to take labored breaths. I frowned as I looked down at him; he was broken. Emotionally, mentally, and now physically.

—

Negan's CT scans came back looking clear, he was fine and there was no internal bleeding that we needed to worry about. He did however dislocate his shoulder which had since been popped back into place thanks to our orthopedic surgeon.

He was put up in a room so we could evaluate him for a night or two which didn't go very well when we informed him, but he finally cooperated and we settled him into a room on the opposite end of the hospital from where Lucille's room had been.

I was finishing up a few things before I went home for the night when I walked past Negan's room. He looked empty and lost and frustrated, which he had every right to be.

"If you're gonna come in then come in, but don't stand out there and stare at me like I'm in some fucking zoo exhibit." He snapped, looking over at me.

With a soft exhale of breath, I stepped into the room and closed the door behind me.

"Didn't your parents ever teach you that it's not polite to stare?" His eyes narrowed.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to be nosy, I was just checking up on you." I fibbed.

"It's a good thing you're a doctor because you're a fucking awful liar." He chuckled.

I gave him a weak half smile and sat down in the chair next to his bed.

"I talked to my Chief about doing your scans pro-bono. I explained everything that happened, not that he didn't already know, but I reminded him that the hospital was burying you under bills and he agreed to it."

A few moments passed and he didn't seem very thrilled with me, but I could tell that he was thankful.

"You're a real piece of work, Doctor Greene. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear that you were some sort of fucking angel." He chuckled, his gaze softening on me some.

We sat comfortably in silence for a while until I checked my watch, noticing that I had been sitting there with him for over an hour and I needed to go home and get at least a little bit of sleep before my shift the next morning.

"I should probably get going, I gotta be back here bright and early." I yawned as I stood up, placing my hand on top of his.

Negan glanced down at my hand and let out a faint chuckle, looking up at me with a nod.

"Goodnight, Doctor Greene."

I walked over to the door and placed my hand on the handle, but then looked over my shoulder at him.

"Negan?"

"Hm?" He glanced at me with a confused expression.

When I opened the door and took one step out, I smiled at him.

"You can call me Natalie."


	5. Talk Me Down

The day Negan was released from the hospital, we made a deal. If he wouldn't talk to the grieve counselor at the hospital, he would talk to me once a week on my day off. He seemed more comfortable with the alternative; so comfortable that it went on for the next three months.

We would meet at my house and order pizza or Chinese food and talk aimlessly for hours about whatever was on our mind that day. Sometimes we'd talk about work, sometimes we'd talk about what was bothering us, and sometimes we wouldn't talk at all; just the comfort of being around each other was enough. This week, however, we talked about holidays.

"Thanksgiving is next week." I mentioned, twirling my fork around the noodles on my plate. "Do you have any plans?"

Negan looked up at me with narrowed eyes as if he were trying to figure out where I was going with this.

"No, I don't." He chuckled dryly. "Lucille's family only put up with me because I was her husband and my parents aren't exactly alive anymore." He mumbled before stuffing a bite of sesame chicken into his mouth.

We had come to learn a lot about each other in the past three months and it was safe to say we were getting close. So close that the other interns at the hospital teased me about my days off being 'date nights with Negan,' but neither of us ever made a pass at the other. He was a grieving widower and I was his shoulder to lean on, that was it.

I nodded at his words and chewed the inside of my mouth before continuing my thought. "Do you wanna come over for dinner? It's my first year hosting Thanksgiving for my family." I laughed nervously. "They live in Atlanta and we haven't exactly been in touch much since I moved here."

Negan swallowed his mouthful of food and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt, causing me to scrunch my nose at him with disgust which inevitably caused him to laugh at me. When he finally nodded, I let out a sigh of relief.

"I guess being with you would be better than being alone." He teased with a half smirk.

I playfully rolled my eyes at him and gently kicked him under the table, making him shoot a playful scowl my way. It was safe to say we found comfort and ease in each other's presence, and I wouldn't want to spend my Thursday nights with anyone but him.

—

"Do you even know how to fucking cook?" Negan let out a curious chuckle at my expense, noticing how foreign the kitchen utensils were to me.

"I'm a surgeon, Negan, I'm sure I can figure out how to cook a damn turkey." I huffed.

"Take that as a no." The grin from his chuckle still lingered on his lips.

I dropped the baster that was in my hand and leaned over the counter, letting out a heavy sigh as I tried to contain my frustration. It was my first time cooking Thanksgiving dinner and needless to say, I belonged in an OR instead of a kitchen.

Taking note of my obvious struggle, Negan pushed his weight from the counter he was leaning against and walked behind me, grabbing the baster I recently dropped and gently pushed me away from the kitchen.

"Get out, go get some fucking rest." He insisted, now standing in the place I stood just moments before. "I've got this under control."

"You know how to cook?" I raised my brow like I didn't believe him.

"I guess when you're not a gifted surgeon like some people, you've gotta figure out how to cook for yourself." He winked, but noticed me scowl at his comment. "I'm just giving you shit, Nat. Cooking's always been one of my hidden talents. It's what draws the ladies in." He chuckled.

I rolled my eyes at his comment, but he gave me a light-hearted smile before waving me off to go rest. I didn't know what I would do without Negan, but I didn't need to worry about that right now. I needed to worry about seeing my family for the first time since I moved to Virginia.

—

Resting like Negan suggested didn't exactly go as planned. Instead, I spent the time getting myself ready. I tossed on a sweater, a scarf, and a pencil skirt that came down mid-thigh accompanied by black stockings that stopped at my calves. I even curled my hair and went as far as putting on just a touch of makeup; something I never did unless it was a special occasion. Once I was ready, I walked down to the kitchen to check on Negan's progress with dinner.

When I stepped into the kitchen, Negan was hard at work; finishing up with a few things as I brought him out of his train of thought.

"Hey," I smiled.

When he looked up at me, his jaw dropped ever so slightly, silently giving me the boost in confidence I needed.

"Well fuck me, you look beautiful." He finally managed to find words, rubbing his hand over his salt and pepper beard.

"Cooking for me _and_ giving me compliments?" I grinned, walking over to peek at the prepared food sitting out on the stovetop. "I might have to bring you around more than once a week."

Negan scoffed, blocking my sight of the food which caused me to pout and poke at his sides.

"I'm just a phone call away, Nat." He reminded me simply, beginning to push me out of the kitchen again, but stopped once my arms snaked around him in a hug.

"Thank you for being here." I uttered against his leather jacket.

Negan chuckled and hugged me back, resting his chin on the top of my head while holding the back of my head steady against his chest with his large hand. When we finally broke away from each other's arms, he playfully nudged me and spoke with a low mumble.

"You know, I'm starting to think you only invited me because you fucking suck at cooking."


	6. Keeping Me Alive

Thanksgiving dinner sat on the table as we awaited for my family to arrive. It was the first year without my mother, so it was only going to be my sister, her husband, and my father this year, along with Negan and myself.

The doorbell rang and Negan chuckled as the blood practically drained from my face. No matter how much I prepared myself, I was a nervous wreck.

"It's not funny. They're a bit much." I sighed, warning him before I answered the door.

When the door opened, my sister's husband was the first to greet me with a bear hug. He spun me around, causing me to giggle, and set me back down on the ground as my sister and father walked in behind him.

"Negan, this is my brother-in-law Glenn, my sister Maggie, and my father Hershel." I smiled as I introduced them to one another. "Everyone, this is Negan."

They all exchanged formal handshakes as I stood feeling nervous. Negan wasn't my boyfriend, but here he was being introduced to my family and cooking dinner. I knew I'd be hounded for details from everyone later on, and I didn't know if I was ready to admit how I was feeling just yet.

Once everyone got settled in, we all sat around the table; my father sitting at the head of the table, Negan and I on one side and Maggie and Glenn on the other. Food was passed around in a circle, grace was said before we all dug in, and everyone praised me about how great the food was. Negan brushed his leg against mine at the mention of the great food, but he let me reap the compliments, knowing it meant a lot to me to impress my family.

We all ate in comfortable silence for a while until my father started in on questions for me.

"How's work been, Natalie?" He gave me a passive aggressive smile. "Here I thought you were busting your ass at the hospital, but you went and got yourself a boyfriend instead."

"Hershel." Glenn warned.

"Dad, stop." Maggie frowned.

My father was still bitter about my move to Virginia, and he let me hear about it every time we spoke which was just one of the reasons we lost contact.

Negan looked over at me, but I didn't look up. I kept my head down, staring into my lap as I waited for his questions to continue the way they always did.

"We aren't dating." Negan spoke up.

"So you're just sleeping together then?"

I felt tears beginning to well in my eyes. I couldn't believe he chose Thanksgiving to prove his point about how disappointing I was to him. I was always the black sheep of the family. I believed in science, not the power of prayer. I wanted to be a surgeon, not a milkmaid.

"We're just friends, dad." I mumbled without looking up at him.

"Friends." He thought over the word as he took a swig of water. "Your mother and I were friends once, too. Then she went and died and my oldest daughter took the quickest flight out of Atlanta." He chuckled sadly, causing Negan's gaze on me to shift to confusion now.

"What, you didn't know that?" He took note in the expression Negan gave me. "I thought friends told each other everything. You're telling me you've known this guy how long and your mother's death never came up once? Didn't you tell me his wife died the same way, Maggie?" He looked over to my sister who was rightfully mortified at the situation.

I trembled in my chair and felt tears falling down my cheeks. Why was this happening to me? All I wanted was to forget the past and move on, but my father wouldn't allow it. He wasn't only hurting me by the mention of my mother, but now he was bringing Negan into it which I knew would only cause problems.

"Is that why you took an interest in him? Did you see yourself in him? Was he your charity case? Did you feel sorry for him?" His patronizing manner continued and showed no signs of letting up. "Because I know you didn't feel sorry for me, but you know what I'm sorry about? Having a daughter like y-"

My father didn't even have time to finish his sentence before I was forcing myself out of my seat. Hurrying out of the dining room and up to my room, I wiped the tears from my cheeks that were replaced with fresh ones just moments later.

Downstairs, Negan stood from the table and jabbed his finger in my father's face.

"You fucking listen to me." He snarled. "Natalie was the only doctor who gave a fuck about me and my wife, whether there were underlying reasons for it or not. She's a fucking fantastic person, she's a brilliant surgeon and she's what's keeping me alive. If you treated her like this back in Atlanta, it's no wonder she left." Negan and my father exchanged hateful glares, but nothing was said until Negan spoke up again. "I think it's time for you to fucking leave."

Maggie and Glenn sat in silence as their argument went down, but oddly enough my dad didn't bother bickering with Negan. Like he wasn't good enough to argue with. All he did was stand from the table and stare at Maggie and Glenn until they followed suit, even though Negan didn't tell them to go. He wasn't mad at them; he could see how much they loved and missed me and vice versa, but he knew my dad wouldn't leave without them.

"It was nice meeting you, Negan." Maggie mumbled, lacing her fingers with Glenn's while my father was already halfway out the door. "Tell my sister we said goodbye." She frowned.

Negan nodded at her soft words and offered them an apologetic smile, waving to them as they left and closed the door behind them. He didn't care that he made an ass out of himself, all he cared about was protecting me.

With a sigh, Negan walked up to my room and softly knocked on the door, waiting for me to respond.

"Go away." I sniffled, rubbing my eyes as I hugged my pillow to my chest like a child.

"Nat, it's me." He mumbled.

As much as I didn't want to see anyone, I couldn't just hide away forever. My father embarrassing me wasn't the worst thing to ever happen, and it wouldn't stop me from living my life. I wanted to set things straight with Negan, tell him my side of the story.

After a minute or two I composed myself enough to open my bedroom door, looking up to meet his gaze while opening the door wider for him to come in.

"I think we should talk."


	7. Between You And I

"My mom... she died about a month before I moved out here." I explained. "She was sick for about six months. She just... she went so quick. One day she was diagnosed and the next she was bedridden." I squeezed my eyes at the thought of my feeble mother who once showed so much vibrance and life.

"My dad, he refused to stop her treatments. Of course he wouldn't listen to me though. He thought I should've known; like just because I'm a doctor I should just know that my mother had cancer. He blamed me. She was gone, she was done fighting it, but he wouldn't stop. He blames me for having different views than him; for wanting to respect her wishes to stop. She wasn't even my mother anymore... Everything just changed so fast."

My entire body trembled against the pillow I was clutching. I was acting like a little girl afraid of the monsters under her bed as I relived the memory of losing her, of losing my family because of the way my father tore us apart. My breathing had faltered and hitched as I hiccuped and a few tears dripped down my nose at the thought of it all. I didn't expect Negan to say anything; hell, he didn't have to even listen to my sob story, but he was.

"That's why." He uttered lowly, glancing over to me.

"What?" I furrowed my brow in confusion and sniffled, looking over at him while wiping my eyes.

"When we first met," he explained. "I asked you if I had more money to pay for the fucking treatments if it would help or not. You gave me a fucking sappy spiel." He sadly chuckled back on the thought now. "I get it. You saw your mom, your fucking mother, go through this shit. You're smart. You fucking understand what these treatments do and how they destroy a person while also trying to save them somehow. Fuck your dad for blaming you. You're not a goddamn psychic, you're a surgeon. A fucking great one at that. I don't care if you had underlying reasons for tending to Lucille the way you did. You made her happy. A hell of a lot happier than I ever could've..." He mumbled.

I was curious as to what he meant by his comment. They were married, surely he made Lucille happy on a regular basis, right?

"I cheated on her." He explained, noticing the curiosity in my face.

"Negan, you don't have to -"

"No. You say something and I say something. That's how our sessions fucking work." He forced a small smile, clearly not letting me be alone in my sadness. "She knew about it. It was going on for a while. I didn't care about the woman, hell, I don't even know why the fuck I did it now, but I did." He paused for a moment as if he were trying to find the reasons behind his actions, but began talking again when he realized there were none.

"She found out she had cancer probably around the same time your mom did. I.. I felt like such shit, you know? My wife is fucking dying right in front of me and I'm out screwing some chick."

All I could do for the moment was stare at him. I was trying to find words, emotions even, but I couldn't. However, I knew my views on Negan weren't changing because of his unfaithfulness to his wife. That wasn't what these sessions were about. We were venting to each other and getting to know one another better. That's what this was about. Acceptance.

"I cut things off the night I found out. She fucking kicked me out." He scoffed, shaking his head. "I came home to Lucille. I told her that I would be by her side through all of this shit. That I loved her so fucking much and..." He harshly swallowed and squeezed his eyes shut. "All she fucking asked me is why I chose the sick one."

A tear fell from Negan's cheek and I sat there in silence. In all the time I'd known him, his emotions never came into play. We've never talked about something so personal before, but the walls on the barrier between us were crumbling right before our eyes. He was finally coming to terms with the loss of his wife.

"I made her feel like such shit, my own fucking wife, that she only thought of herself as the sick one. I tried making things right; I went to every appointment, held her hair back when she threw up for hours, tended to her every need..." He let out a breath like he'd been kicked in the stomach. "But it was too late. That fucking hospital ate me alive, Nat.. Lucille was dying. There was so much fucking paperwork, so many bills, so many different doctors that came in and out of her room."

He took the time to rub his hand over his face, thinking over all the grief he went through; that we both went through. We were going through the same thing at the same time, just in different cities, different states, but the same emotion; pain.

"And then you show up. You show up for about a month and turn every bad thing into a positive. I don't know how you fucking did it, but you made her smile, you made her happy. You were like a breath of fresh air in a never ending moment of drowning. You couldn't save her, but you saved me.."

His eyes met mine and my jaw slightly dropped at his comment. He was being so sincere and so open, I didn't know what to say. It hurt me to realize if I hadn't up and left Atlanta that Negan would be suffering alone. That I would be trapped listening to my father blame me day in and day out. That we would be complete strangers to one another. That right now, I wouldn't be falling for the man I'd come to call my best friend.


	8. Falling Slowly

"Sounds like you're into him." Jane shrugged, giving me her two cents on my current situation.

It had only been six days since Thanksgiving. Six days since Negan had spilled his heart out to me, since he saw how utterly cruel my father could be. It had only been six days since my heart began to flutter when I saw or thought of him. I couldn't even pinpoint the exact time it started happening because I never thought it would. I always thought Negan and I would just be friends; and maybe we would.

"I.. no. I'm not." I laughed at her ridiculous comment.

"And why not?" Her brow raised.

"Because I can't be." I frowned, looking down at the tray of food in front of me. "His wife just died, Jane."

"She died almost six months ago, Natalie." She scoffed. "Look, I don't completely know your situation, but he seems like an introvert to me. He opens up to you though, he hangs around with you, he cooked you a feast for crying out loud. I think it's safe to say he's trying to move on from his wife."

We sat in the cafeteria without saying anything after that for a while. Part of me knew Jane was right about everything; Negan wouldn't spend time with me if he didn't want to. He wouldn't open up to me if he didn't want to. Nobody could make Negan do anything, he did things on his own terms. He trusted me enough to open up, he cared about me enough to listen to me ramble and complain. Maybe he really was trying to move on.

However, the other part of me felt guilty. I didn't want to replace Lucille. My brain would always be wired into thinking that way, but I knew I shouldn't. She was gone and he was coping with it. I needed to let him move on, I needed to let him decide how long was long enough before he found comfort in another woman's embrace. I needed to remember that this wasn't about me.

"Hospital Christmas party is coming up," Jane chimed in again. "Maybe you should invite him tomorrow when you two get together." She added her two cents in again before standing from the table.

I let out a soft sigh and slid my eyes closed. I felt like I was in high school again dealing with my first crush. I felt clumsy and awkward and I didn't want things to change between Negan and myself just because I had a new found feeing for him.

My nerves were getting the better of me and Jane could obviously tell. She rested her hand on my shoulder for a moment and gave me a soft smile when I finally opened my eyes again.

"Just a suggestion." She mumbled before making her way out of the cafeteria and leaving me alone with my thoughts.

—

It was hard to believe that it was already December 1st. It seemed like just yesterday I was moving out of Atlanta during the hottest days of summer and now I was wearing an oversized sweater while pulling boxes of Christmas ornaments and decorations up from the basement.

I was brought out of my thoughts when Negan swung the door open; pizzas balanced in one hand while a case of beer and a bottle of wine dangled in the other. I was quick to help him with the items and set them on the table with a soft laugh after doing so. He was never one to make more than one trip from the car and that sometimes ended in catastrophe if I wasn't there to assist.

"Pizza, beer _and_ wine?" I childishly whined, giving him a hard time. "What's the damage?"

"Well shit, doll. Spending your evening watching football and decorating with me seems to be a fucking fit punishment if you ask me." He winked, wasting no time in cracking one of the beers open.

I went to the cupboard and grabbed two plates and a wine glass for myself and met him at the table while he was already mindlessly searching for the Redskins game. We seemed to skip right over talking and got down to stuffing our faces with supreme pizza while his eyes were fixated on the game until a commercial would interrupt.

I didn't mind watching the game with him; growing up in Atlanta, my father always had us watch the Falcons on Sundays after the family went to church. I knew more about football than I led on, mainly because I liked when Negan explained things to me. Once halftime hit, he was already down two beers and I had made quite the dent in my bottle of wine, but that wasn't going to stop us from decorating.

"There's no fucking way you brought all this shit with you from Atlanta." He teased me as he began rummaging through the ornaments and decorations. "Alright Grinch, did you fucking steal Christmas before hightailing it up to Virginia?"

"I got a good deal at Target." I giggled, grabbing a few ornaments that he was holding hostage from me. "Christmas has always been my favorite time of year. Living in Atlanta, I don't recall ever having a white Christmas. Or snow much at all now that I really think about it."

I hung the few ornaments that were in my hands and Negan began to decorate the living room with a few things I had laid out. After that was done, he helped me with the ornaments; just hanging them wherever he thought they looked nice. He seemed like he was enjoying the sound of my slightly slurred voice, so I kept talking after the tree started filling up with ornaments.

"Speaking of Christmas." I mumbled, catching his attention. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I think you're stuck spending yet another holiday with me."

Negan grinned at me and stepped over a pile of tinsel that sat on the floor. He grabbed a couple of other decorations and sat them on the fireplace to get them out of the way and then made his way back over to me.

"Another fucking holiday with you?" He rolled his eyes in a playful manner which caused me to gently push him. "At least let me take credit for the fucking food this time or you can have burnt everything for days to come."

"Cooking is my kryptonite." I giggled, scrunching my nose at him as I stumbled over a box that was on the floor.

Negan quickly caught me and let out a chuckle at my expense. "Apparently so is walking, sweetheart." He mumbled lowly and looked down at me.

He seemed to be at a standstill about something, but I couldn't figure out what it was. I was still in his arms, but I had long since been able to stand on my own.

"What?" I finally asked, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks as he stared at me.

He motioned for me to look up, so I did, and then it hit me. We were standing under the mistletoe and he was conflicted about what he should do. I wasn't sure why though. Maybe it was because I was slightly tipsy and he felt guilty for taking advantage of me, or maybe it was because he didn't want to, but why would he bring attention to it if he didn't?

I realized I was overthinking again and before I knew it, my trembling hand found its way up to his neck and rested just below his jawline while the other rested against his chest. The height difference between the two of us was prominent, but it didn't discourage either of us. His hands then came into play; one resting securely on my waist and one on the back of my head as I looked up at him. His eyes searched mine for any slight hint of doubt, but when he saw none, he slowly pulled me closer.

The gap between our bodies was gone and my lips were finally met with the feeling of his being pressed against them. His beard softly pricked my skin, but I didn't mind. The kiss was tender and soft and explorative, but great nonetheless. I could've stayed there like that forever and I still would've never gotten used to the way his lips were so rough yet gentle at the same time, the way they moved with mine in search of something rhythmic and passionate.

As he slowly pulled away, he looked down at me while I softly panted for air. My cheeks were far beyond flushed and I felt my knees buckle beneath me. After licking over his lips, a half-smirk appeared on them, followed by his trademark low voice that for a week now had made me weak.

"Merry fucking Christmas."


	9. Numb

"Well it was bound to happen sooner or later," Maggie gave a lighthearted laugh over the phone.

It had been a couple weeks since the kiss and neither I nor Negan had brought it up yet. Things weren't awkward between us — we still got together on Thursday nights — but we acted as if nothing ever happened. Like his fingers didn't tangle in my hair and I didn't whimper against his lips. Like neither of us were panting for air once our lips parted ways. He would come over, we'd drink a couple of beers, talk, watch whatever was on TV, and then we'd say goodnight.

It sounds so simple when I think about it, but every time he steps through the door, I feel my heart ache at how much adoration I have for this man; especially tonight.

Negan had graciously accepted my invitation to our Christmas party at work even though he could sense that I wasn't overly excited to attend. I always felt awkward at functions like these; they were just an excuse to brag about how great your career was or make uncomfortable small talk while your date was off getting drinks. And then there was the whole _are you my date or are we just going as friends_ question that I had been dwelling on but avoiding at all costs.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I furrowed my brow at her remark as if she could see it.

"I mean it's not exactly surprising. You're both attractive and single. Plus as close as you two are becoming..." She trailed off.

"Yeah?" I egged her on.

"Men and women can't be just friends, Natalie."

Before I had a chance to retaliate to her idiotic comment, there was a knock on my bedroom door which caused me to jump and immediately hang up on my sister.

"Nat?" Negan's voice on the other side of my bedroom door caused me to panic. He had to know I was talking about him on the phone.

"Y-Yeah, come in." I stammered, smoothing out my black satin dress in the mirror to seem as if I was calm, cool and collected and not at all freaking out about bringing him to a party with my colleagues.

Negan stepped into my room just moments later and stared at me in the mirror, not taking his eyes off of me for even a second. His lips curled into a soft smile as I motioned for him to zip me up which of course he did. I felt his fingers linger against my skin for a moment before he pulled away and cleared his throat.

"You look god damn gorgeous." He uttered lowly, causing my cheeks to burn a bright shade of pink.

"You don't look too bad yourself." I hummed, scrunching my nose at him in the mirror.

For once, Negan had ditched the leather jacket and jeans for a blacked out suit and tie and he looked utterly breathtaking. However, between the two of us, it looked as if we were going to a funeral rather than a Christmas party.

"Lose the jacket." I bit down on my bottom lip, turning to look at him.

"Trying to get my clothes off already, huh?" He smirked, but trusted my judgement and shrugged off the jacket.

I tried not to blush any more than I already had and went to unbutton the cuffs of his shirt to help him roll them up. He looked a lot more laid back now that he wasn't hidden behind a fancy suit and I felt a little more at ease since we didn't look so formal.

Once I had finished getting ready, Negan and I were on our way to the party and I couldn't have been any more nervous in my life.

—

Thankfully the party had quickly moved to the bar just a couple of blocks away from the hospital and everyone was finally loosening up around each other now that we were getting drinks in our systems. Only the surgeons who weren't on call could drink, so there were only a handful of us left from the party.

To my surprise, Negan was fitting right in with my friends and they all seemed to enjoy his company. Of course this made me happy, but then I realized that I would have to explain that he and I weren't anything more than friends despite the way I felt for him.

I must've been staring at him for longer than I thought because the bartender took note of it.

"You two together?" He asked, raising his brow as he slid a shot in front of me.

"What? No." I quickly shook my head before tossing the shot back. I had already drank quite a bit and really didn't feel like explaining why even if I could.

"I only asked because that girl," he pointed to Jane, "seems to have taken quite the liking to him."

I immediately scoffed and turned my head to see Jane giggling and hanging all over Negan while he talked to her and a few of my friends. The feelings that absorbed me at that moment were best described as betrayal, anger, and jealousy. My heart was aching and the alcohol in my system wasn't on my side anymore, if anything it added to the confusing emotions and tears that began to trickle down my cheeks.

I quickly excused myself after tossing a few one dollar bills on the bar top and hurried out of the bar while wiping the tears from my cheeks. I must've caught Negan's eye on my way out because not even ten seconds later he was following after me as I stumbled down the sidewalk.

"Nat," Negan called after me. "Natalie will you fucking stop!" He shouted louder before gently grabbing my wrist to stop me.

When I turned to face him, the look of confusion left his face only to be replaced by something I couldn't explain. When he saw the tears that stained my cheeks and the fresh tears welling up in my eyes, it was like something inside of him broke even though he had seen me cry before. It was like he knew this time it was because of him.

"Natalie.." His voice was softer this time. The way he said my name recently made me weak, but right now I wished that I would never hear it again. "What the hell happened?"

"Your wife died, Negan!" I shouted.

Even in my drunken state I could tell that he wasn't expecting that to be what was wrong with me.

"Your wife died and a part of you died with her..." I choked, wiping the tears from my cheeks. "And I understood that. I understand that you can love somebody so much even when they're gone. I understand that eventually it comes to the point where you can move on, but god dammit, Negan, I've been right here this whole time. I've listened, I've cared, I've done everything I could think of to comfort you and you still don't see it."

"See what?" Negan mumbled, stepping closer to me.

"That I want to be with you!" I scoffed as if it were the most obvious statement ever spoken. "That you should be with me and not Jane! That despite my best efforts, I let myself feel something for you that I've never experienced in my life!" My voice cracked as I yelled at him. "I didn't want to fall for you, really I didn't, but despite my best efforts, you're all I can think about and it's killing me, Negan! It's killing me to know that even though Lucille is gone, I can't bring myself to be with you because I believe that even though she's dead, you two are still star crossed lovers."

As the tears spilled down my cheeks, I felt everything Negan and I had worked towards crumbling around me. The way he looked at me was that of severe confusion and speechlessness.

"I let you into my life, I introduced you to my friends and family, I let you explain football to me even though I probably know it better than you do." I forced a pained smile as tears dripped off my nose. "But I can't do this anymore, Negan.. I.." That was as far as I got before my silent tears turned into broken sobs.

Negan went to wrap his arms around me, and I made a failed attempt to fight him off by beating my weak fists against his chest until he finally held me tightly enough against him that all I could do was let out all of the emotions that had been building up inside of me for the last two weeks. We stood there like that for a while, me sobbing into his chest and him being my rock despite my childish outbursts and accusations.

When I finally stopped crying, I gently pulled myself away from his arms and looked down at the ground. I was embarrassed of my behavior and I didn't know how anything could be the same between us after this.

A couple of minutes passed before Negan's voice broke the horrible silence that I thought would never end.

"Let me walk you home."


	10. All That I'm Asking For

I woke up the next morning with a dull headache and I noticed that I was still wearing my dress from the night before. It took a few minutes for me to remember the events from last night and when I finally did, I was sick to my stomach. I professed my feelings to Negan and I had no idea where this left us.

When I rolled over to grab my phone from the nightstand, I noticed there was a glass of water with Alka-Seltzer and Tylenol tablets sitting beside it with a note under the pills.

 _Take this. You'll thank me later._

A faint smile curled one side of my lips at Negan's handwriting. After setting the note aside and forcing myself to sit up on the edge of my bed, I let the Alka-Seltzer dissolve in the water and I swallowed the Tylenol that Negan had left for me.

Before I even had a chance to finish changing into sweatpants and a t-shirt, the smell of coffee filled the air which caused me to furrow my brow in confusion and of course made me walk downstairs to investigate.

As I turned the corner after reaching the bottom of the steps, I saw Negan in the kitchen cooking up breakfast and pouring two cups of coffee. Pancakes, eggs, toast and bacon were all sitting on plates accompanied by two bowls of fruit and syrup for the pancakes.

I hugged the blanket to my body that was wrapped around my shoulders and cleared my throat to let him know I was in the room, but apparently he had already seen me.

"Good to know you're up and moving." He mumbled softly as he began to bring the plates over to the table.

I offered a faint smile, but I was still completely confused. Why was Negan here? Did he sleep over? Did we... oh god.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, not meaning to come across as rude as I sounded.

"Well when you couldn't stop throwing up last night, I decided that I should probably stay over and make sure you were okay." He shrugged, not seeming to mind my attitude. "Sorry if your dress got ruined by sleeping in it, doll. I wasn't about to fucking strip you down and change your clothes without permission to do so."

That at least answered the question as to if we had done anything. But I still didn't understand why he was acting so caring and so much like a boyfriend. Especially after my outburst.

"Negan.." I began, but was cut off by him offering a hand up to stop me from saying anything else.

Instead of talking, he waved me over to the table where the ridiculous amount of food was scattered out along with the coffee and creamer.

Without much hesitation, I sat down across from him with the blanket still draped over my shoulders. I spent a couple of minutes cutting up my food and pouring syrup on my pancakes, but after I had got settled in, I couldn't help but notice that Negan seemed to be carefully thinking about something. Most likely the events that took place last night.

"Negan, I'm sorry about-"

"I don't fucking want Jane." He spoke up, immediately cutting me off from apologizing about anything else.

I looked at him in confusion and set my fork down to give him the floor to speak his peace. Besides, it was only fair to him for me to give him my undivided attention.

"I don't want Jane," he repeated. "I spent almost twenty years falling in love with my wife every god damned day. She was stunning, she was generous, she loved too hard and I didn't deserve a thing she did for me, but she was fucking mine and I was hers..." Negan stared off, looking as if he was trying to find the right words to say. Like what he wanted to say wasn't cooperating with him.

"But then she got sick. She got fucking sick and suddenly I didn't see Sunday drives through the park, I didn't see summer vacations at the beach, I didn't fucking see Christmas mornings or birthday celebrations. Those past times, those memories... They were fleeting before Lucille even flatlined." He paused, rubbing the salt and pepper beard that had grown out on his face. "The only thing I saw out of this was a long painful journey for the woman I cared about most in this world. I saw her beautiful skin turning grey, I saw her hair falling out and her fucking curves disappearing because these god forsaken fucking treatments were eating her alive. And just when I didn't see a light at the end of this tunnel... you show up." Negan scoffed, staring at me as I snuck a bite of bacon.

"You... You were like the calm in the middle of the shit storm that my life was quickly becoming. When I didn't have anyone or anything to turn to, you forced yourself in despite my best fucking efforts, no offense. You took a fucking axe to the walls I put up, you let me into your life, you gave my Lucille the proper care and respect she deserved unlike most of the doctors in that fucking hospital."

A minute or so passed and I could practically see Negan's fingers trembling. He knew that if he didn't want to talk about anything, I wouldn't force him. I wouldn't press the issue. Our talks were always voluntary. Once he seemed to have regained his composure, he reached across the table and rested his hand on top of mine, gently gliding his thumb over my knuckles.

"It's been almost eight months without her. Almost three seasons have come and gone and winter was always her favorite. But yours? You love fall because you get to wear those baggy ass sweaters that you look downright fucking adorable in. You stock your house full of pumpkin flavored food and coffee like it's going out of style." Negan and I both smiled at each other, I was a sucker for pumpkin. "She was the love of my life, but that part of my life is over, Nat. I've been waiting on you, you haven't been waiting on me."

The silence that followed Negan's ten minute monologue was deafening. In all the months I'd known him, in all the times we'd talked, even on Thanksgiving, he'd never opened up to me this much. Not about Lucille, not about anything. Yet here he was, sitting in front of me pouring his heart and soul out about his wife for the first time since she died. Almost eight whole months had passed and Negan was finally coping with the loss of his wife. He was talking about her, he was sharing her memory with someone who cared about her. He wasn't going to forget her, he wasn't replacing her. He was ready to start a new life. A new life with me.

I stood up from the table and walked over to the other side where Negan was sitting. We studied one another carefully before I sat down in his lap and draped one of my arms around his neck and placed my other hand against his chest. Negan snaked his arm around my lower back and laid his other hand on my thigh as we stared at each other.

We both leaned in, letting our foreheads touch as we stared at the other's lips. I slowly moved my hand up his chest to the side of his face and softly caressed it as I leaned in further and pressed my lips to his. His beard was slightly rough, but his soft lips made up for it. We synchronized the kiss almost instantly, but we both kept a slow and sensual pace. Negan let out a hum against my lips and after a while, we pulled away and rested our foreheads against one another's again.

"I'm scared, Negan." I admitted, looking down as his hand squeezed mine.

"Don't be," he shook his head with a faint smile. "They will never stop making pumpkin flavored anything."


	11. Miles and States

The next couple of weeks took some getting used to. Negan and I were transitioning from being just friends to so much more in such a short period of time. We saw each other much more often than only on Thursday's, and Negan was in the process of moving his things into my house. Not only that, but in our spare time, he had been helping me study for my board exams coming up in just three short months that determined if I would become a resident next year. I was beyond nervous, but as usual, Negan kept me grounded the way he always did.

"You're gonna nail this fucking test," Negan spoke positively.

"Yeah, but what if I forget the -"

"You're not gonna forget. You're a fucking genius, Nat." He grinned.

I rolled my eyes playfully. Negan never let me doubt myself or talk down about my abilities. He had more faith in me than anyone else and I loved having someone in my corner who believed in me without a doubt even when I didn't have much faith in myself.

When I looked up from the notecards, Negan was staring at me like something was on his mind.

"What?" I raised my brow.

"Have you decided if you're going home this weekend?" He asked, setting my notebook and pen aside.

I let out a soft sigh and fidgeted with my fingers. This weekend would mark the year of my mother's death and I had been contemplating back and forth to go home and visit my family or not.

"I.. I don't know, Negan. I haven't talked to my dad since Thanksgiving, he won't want to see me." I shrugged, but I knew that wasn't the truth. I didn't want to see him.

"Well I hate to fucking break it to you, doll, but I already booked you a flight."

"Negan, no.." I huffed, standing up to walk away from the conversation, but Negan was quick to grab my arm.

"Hey." He uttered softly. "I know there's a lot of hard feelings there, but none of them are with your mom. If you don't want to let your family know you're in town, that's your decision, but you need to visit your mom. I think it'll do you some fucking good."

I knew he was right. He was always right, but I was stubborn and he knew it. Without saying anything else, I offered him a soft smile and nodded my head in agreement.

"Good. Your flight leaves first thing tomorrow morning."

—

Atlanta during the summer was a feeling I would never forget. It was hot and muggy for the most part, but today it was overcast and looking like it was considering raining or not.

I took Negan's advice and ditched out on going home, not because of my dad, but because I really just needed my mom. Even though she wasn't physically here, she always helped me with my problems.

"Hi, mom." I smiled, running my fingers over the grass in front of her headstone.

The cemetery was quiet and thankfully nobody heard me giggle as I read the writing on the stone in front of me.

Loving wife and mother.

She was so much more than that. So much more deserving than just a few measly words.

"I wish you were here. I can't believe it's only been a year without you. It... it feels like so much longer. So much has changed since you left." I scoffed sadly, running my fingers over the headstone in front of me as I sat in the grass.

"I'm taking my boards next month." I informed. "Negan's been helping me a lot."

And then it dawned on me that she never got to meet Negan.

"You would've loved him, mom. He's really supportive of my career and he helps me when things get too stressful. Moving to Virginia after you... after you died.. it was probably the best thing for me. Oddly enough, I met him through my first patient. Her name was Lucille."

And so I sat there with my mother for what seemed like ages, telling her all about Lucille and Negan, all about how much they both meant to me. How much I fought for Lucille's life and then everything started to hurt. It all came back to me in a flood of emotions. Lucille was gone, my mother was gone, and Negan and my family were left to pick up the pieces of everything that was broken. I couldn't believe it had only been a year.

"I miss you so much, mom.." My voice cracked.

I couldn't be here. I just couldn't. I should've brought Negan with me, I should've gone home. I shouldn't be here.

After several minutes of crying, I picked myself up and wiped the dirt from my legs, only to turn around and bump right into someone.

"Natalie."

"..Dad."

We stared at each other and stood in awkward silence before he spoke up.

"Finally remembered how to get home?" He scoffed.

My heart was aching. All I wanted to do was pay my respects to my mother, yet here I was, being belittled by my father once again.

"You know I've been busy." I stated dryly.

"Busy." He chuckled. "Is that what you're calling shaking up with a widower?"

My blood boiled.

"Stop!" I shouted, the surprise on his face was prominent. "I'm tired of you doing this to me! Negan is sweet, he's supportive, he cares about me and above all else, he lost his wife too but instead of taking it out on everyone around him, he let me help him! Me, dad. All on my own!"

"Now you listen to me N-"

"No! I'm tired of listening to you!" I shouted, my body trembling with rage. "You think losing mom was easy for me? She was my mother! Everything I've ever learned in life was because of her! Not a day goes by where I don't miss the hell out of her. I think about her every second of every day. Every patient I have? I fight for them because of her. I don't want anyone to ever go through the pain that I have because losing your mother? It's the greatest pain in the world. I was lost, dad. I had to get away because this town was eating me alive. You were eating me alive. Your negativity, the way you belittled everything important in my life... I was lost and Negan found me. He thought I was helping him mourn the loss of his wife, but really he was helping me mourn mom just as much without realizing that he was saving me too. I loved her more than I'll ever love anyone else and the fact that you're still so blind.. even after a year has gone by.. I can't be your punching bag, dad. I just can't anymore."

When I looked up into his eyes, there was an empty expression in them. It was as if in that moment, my dad finally saw just how much my mother's death hurt me, how much he was hurting me. How much it destroyed me just as much as it did him. I didn't want her to die, I wasn't helping her die by granting her wishes. Yes, I'm a surgeon, but I'm a daughter first, and that will never change.

As I turned to walk away, my father spoke up.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, causing me to stop in my tracks and turn back to face him.

"You've always been different, Natalie. You've always handled things differently than everyone else. Maggie? She wanted to stay here and help with the farm, she cried for weeks when your mother died. But you? You wanted to be a surgeon, you went to the best school, you left when your mother died. I never saw just how badly it hurt you, and when we came up for Thanksgiving, I thought we'd be able to talk about it then, but instead you brought this guy -"

"Negan." I corrected him.

"You brought Negan and it just blindsided me. I hadn't seen my daughter in almost half a year. I wanted to talk, I wanted to.. I wanted to finally understand things about you the way your mother used to. I know you were closer to her than me, Natalie. And I know I'm to blame for that, and I truly am sorry. Everything I've said about you becoming a surgeon, everything I've blamed on you that wasn't in your control, I'm so sorry." He stood silent for a moment before continuing.

"You're my first born, you have a life of your own now, you have a career and a home, but you're still my little girl. And when you told me that his wife died, I... I just saw you as a rebound until he felt better about his life and you'd be left picking up the pieces like you always are, sweetheart. Nothing against this Negan fellow, but I just can't wrap my head around a widower healing so quickly after losing his wife, but then he stood up to me. He put me in my place for belittling you, for scolding you like a child. As much as I hate to admit it, that man earned my respect, darlin'. No man that you've ever brought around had the guts to speak to me the way he did and it was for a good reason. He didn't care that I'm your father, all he saw was the woman he loves in pain and that was enough to make him see red. He's good for you, Natalie. You say you're just friends, but he looks at you the way I used to look at your mother. Like you put the stars in the sky and make the sun come up every morning."

The woman he loves.

"A few weeks ago Negan and I started dating." I laughed, shaking my head. "I know you're going to say you told me so, especially after everything you just said, and don't go getting a big head or anything, but you were right. He's good for me, dad. After everything, he's still here. He's up late at night to help me study, he replaces the light bulbs that I can't reach, he even cooked Thanksgiving dinner."

"I knew it was too good." He grinned. "You might be a brilliant woman, but you sure didn't learn your cooking skills from your mother. The one thing you picked up from me, it had to be burning food."

The mood between my father and I had been lifted and we walked together towards the gates of the cemetery just reminiscing about memories of my mother and in that moment I was happy that I wasn't alone. For the first time in a long time, having my father around actually made things better.

"So you guys pretty serious then?" He asked as we reached his car.

"I don't know, maybe. I don't want to rush him into anything." I shrugged, earning a nod from him.

"Dad?" I spoke up again.

"Hm?"

"You really think he loves me?" I asked.

He smiled at my question and once again nodded his head. "Yes, sweetheart, I really do."

I bit my lip and felt my cheeks heating up. Never did I think I would ever feel this way about my best friend.

"I think I love him too."


End file.
